Fortunate Sleep
by velvet key
Summary: Drabbles for Silent Hill 4.
1. Walk Away

**AN:** I don't own Silent Hill 4, and make no profit from this.  
Welcome to the first of a string of drabbles resultant of my reawakened obsession for Silent Hill 4. I blame the awe-inspiring Sulhadahne and her beyond awesome fics. Darn you, you wonderful woman you. ಠ_ಠ;  
Please Enjoy!~

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It had been odd enough when Sunderland was arguing with someone just out of Henry's view for hours on end, just plain weird when Walter "the psycho killer" Sullivan would stop by and just **stare **in, and freaky as high hell when bloody words scrawled through their hand print counterparts, barely legible at an obtuse angle, making Henry think at first that half of it was in Russian. But when Eileen started fighting some invisible being or another back and forth across the hallway, Henry _knew_, without a doubt, dead people and monsters aside, that he was either nuts or (more probably) that the world was **wrong**.  
Oh, how little he knew.


	2. Childishness

I do not own SH4 and make no profit from fics, but if I did...

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He could have killed him in his room, never knowing who was after him or why, never cognizant of the nightmare around him. He could have. But Walter liked showing off his things, as few they were, especially when they were so _shiny_.  
The doll was special, a secret kept safe and close, far from the unclean things of the tainted world. But Henry was different. Henry was _perfect_. Innocence and wonder and altruism wrapped in the naive bundle of an unloved, beautiful man that was all Walters to keep. And to show. Why not give those other sacraments a glimpse of the world they would help to birth? Of the paradise Mom would bring? Of the way humans _should_ be...  
And once the last one had fallen and his little 'soldier' was felled in 'battle' Walter scooped him up, strutting past the discarded refuse to show his favorite toy to his Mother.


	3. Breach of Contract

The morning the bloodied warning seeped through his door, Henry Townshend thought a lot of things. He thought how odd it was to be locked in your own home, unable to contact the outside. He pondered how someone could break in, attach chains and locks, drilling them into place without him waking and noticing. He mused over how the clock froze and why it was stuck at 10:05. Henry even theorized as to how writing, in what looked like blood, could materialize through a solid door. But most of all, Henry wondered long and hard about how he would eventually explain the gaping hole in his bathroom, and despaired at the knowledge that he'd _never_ get his deposit back.

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Still don't own.  
Read and review?


	4. Possibilities

The second of ten in a flower-themed meme, the prior being Buttercup (Childishness). See ch.1 for disclaimers.

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Azalea (fragile and ephemeral passion)

It was unspoken.  
Days had passed in the light of one; a sun-up to sun-down spent in blood and five deaths he could have if-only stopped.  
But at the end of things, at the end of it all, the one hope he'd kept was lost with them.  
The fleeting glimpse of what-if...

It had formed like a snowflake in the midst of that terrible storm, and when the carnage was wreaked and the skies calmed, it melted in the heat of the moment.

"Mom..."_  
_

_Walter_.


	5. alternate: Childishness

**AN:** No profits made, etc. Reviews and opinions would be lovely~

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It was fine when Henry wandered off, playing Alice in the bathroom, meeting Duchesses and Hatters and all other sorts of creatures; even with the constant peeping into the outer world Henry always came home, like a good boy. Always returned to the comfort of his bed in the familiarity of his apartment, safe from the dangers of man and beast alike.

Bringing home strays, however, was forbidden, and the punishment must fit the crime. After all, 'Mother', just like Walter, _hated_ to share.


	6. Somnambulist

**A/N:** I neither own Silent Hill or make profit from it or these postings. Please enjoy!~

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It was only when he slept that he'd dream of blue and blonde, cold iron and warm blood, fresh screams and rotted flesh, embers and drownings and numbers. It was only then he'd cry out for "mother" and long for strong arms, ignoring curses and cradles for obsession and need. Only when dreaming did he feel both hunted and safe, and only then did he feel satiated. So when the nightmares ended and the hole opened up Henry gave up on waiting for a dream and ventured out to find it.


	7. Decision

AN: I got this beta'd over the phone, so... yeah. Lemme know what you think! (Still don't own SH)

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Henry was going to die - he could feel it.

Somewhere between is empathetic life and the prison his room had become things had changed. From the moment he saw Cynthia enter the subway till he found Eileen his world twisted and jumbled, piling upon itself and wrenching away any sense of normalcy. It wasn't until he actually met Walter, however, that his death was assured.

One way or another his story would end entombed in the realm of Silent Hill.

But knowing that didn't worry him - he had been ready to die the moment he'd been born, having nothing to ground him to this life and thusly no qualms about leaving it. He could do _one_ thing before he died, though...

Hefting up the bat Henry guided Eileen passed the charred remains of Wish House.

He could keep her alive.


End file.
